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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301562">Insomnium</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maesonry/pseuds/Maesonry'>Maesonry</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rigatoniplatter/pseuds/rigatoniplatter'>rigatoniplatter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Work and Days [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hades (Video Game 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Don We Now Our Gay Apparel, Gen, Horrifying Sadness at Others, Hurt/Comfort, Hypnos Angst, M/M, Sickly Cute at Times, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:08:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maesonry/pseuds/Maesonry, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rigatoniplatter/pseuds/rigatoniplatter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Without Death, the world would stop turning.<br/>Without Life, mortals would cease.<br/>But without Sleep-<br/>Without Sleep, eternity would still march on.</p><p> </p><p>One day, Hypnos goes to the surface.<br/>One day, Hypnos doesn’t come back</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eurus/Hypnos (Hades Video Game), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Work and Days [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nausea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maesonry/gifts">Maesonry</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Spoilers for Hymn To Prometheus<br/>shout out to maesonry for showing me how ao3 works</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The party was in full swing, and Hypnos only felt bile in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
        <span>The image on the skyphos seemed to mock him. On its side, Hypnos and his brother held Sarpedon, the body limb in their arms as they dragged it away from the carnage before them. When was it that the two had last worked together? Even the soothing dreams meant to ease mortals from one plane to the next had all but dissolved. Now all that mattered was Thanatos and the prince-- and there will never be a greater call for celebration than the reunion between death and rebirth. Thousands of tears falling from trembling faces onto the ground. The surface and depths of Hades for a moment was indistinguishable, bright flowers blooming even in the heat of Asphodel. And yet, Hypnos, selfish god Hypnos, wanted to vomit as Thanatos laughed and cried into Zagreus’ chest. Hypnos struggled to take another sip, the nectar burning his mouth and throat as it struggled to sink down. He flinched, and the world sunk.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>You die, You see nothing, You rememerge from blood and scream. </span>
      </p><p>
        
      </p><p>
        <span>And right now Hypnos wanted to scream watching Zagreus and Thanatos share the kylix, the image in the center known only to those two. He turned his own skyphos to face them, waiting for one of them to look his way. But oh, they were so absorbed in their own little world. The feast went on. Hypnos still stuck in between Hades and Megaera. There was a time once where he would envy the idea of being close to one of the few other equals he had. That faded as soon as Zagreus presented a bottle of ambrosia to her. Or perhaps when, upon second reflection, that there was nothing beyond the surface towards his feelings toward Meg. Strong, of course she was. Beautiful, no doubt. Who was she to him? An acquaintance who brushed past each other when Zagreus escaped. Then someone who never visited outside of the occasional drink. Nothing that could compare to the nights where Thanatos and Zagreus would hold each other's hands and laugh over and over into the night. </span>
      </p><p>
        
      </p><p>
        <span>Not even a formal union, and yet it was treated with that same oo and awe from both lowly shades to primordial gods. How Nyx spoke so positively of her precious son Thanatos, how brilliant he was. How he brought a unique light to the room, despite the fact that he was death itself. The fact that he could even sense a force beyond comprehension to all but himself, well. That was enough. He took another long sip; how he longed for the bitter variants Hebe would cry into and Zagreus would bring back. It was a constant, once. But for what reason is there to cry anymore? Hypnos spat the nectar back in the cup. Thanatos took another sip and passed their own back to Zagreus. </span>
      </p><p>
        
      </p><p>
        <span>He pulled the cup back, and spilled it onto the ground. A soft ‘oh my!’ sounded and someone rushed to the mess. He dropped the cup then, it shattered by her head, and he moaned a soft sorry. She stifled a growl, and instead laughed, ‘it’s alright!’ to him. She couldn’t yell, she couldn’t argue especially when in the presence of so many gods above her. Perhaps that was why he didn’t loathe her presence. That and how she was always, always alone unless someone wanted something from her. Company, to pay a bill, to clean a room. Cruel? Maybe. But it was her place to accept the tantrums of whichever god was angry that day. He hoped that in another life, they would be friends. With a small thank you, she was dismissed. As Zagreus again sloppily kissed Thanatos on his pale cheek, Hypnos found that he dismissed himself soon after. </span>
      </p><p>
        
      </p><p>
        <span>No one noticed. </span>
      </p><p>
        
      </p><p>
        <span>Even when the wide doors that led to Tartarus creaked open, no one noticed. Their laughter, their joy was too loud to hear him. It was understandable. Zagreus was stolen away, and when he returned spring came with him. It was better that his tantrum went unnoticed. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>He neared Erebus after little time, yet found himself still wandering. Wandering, Wandering into the surface where his mother still drenched the sky. She wouldn’t notice; not even the mortals would. They slept, curled up against one another to ward off the cold. Hypnos pulled his blanket closer. He’d let them sleep a little longer. He’d let his brother bask in the glory of Zagreus’ return a little longer. Not for their sake. It was simply that all these mortals refused to let go of one another. How they coiled and wrapped their limbs around themselves. Even in sleep they would be together. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Eos appeared in the sky and began to dye it pink. She burned his eyes in an instant alongside Apollo. For what? Was he unwelcome even here? He rubbed his eyes. If he could see out his sleeping mask, he would pull it down and shield himself. But such things were impossibilities, just as the island before him was another impossibility. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Wait.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Islands are not meant to rise in such a manner. No, nothing was wrong with its placement, it followed the islands before it. More it is how it seemed to have stretched from the ocean almost perfectly vertically. Had it even been here a moment ago? Hypnos rose an arm. It was empty- no, no wait there was still one being inside such a massive piece of land. He had done it once before. But. But perhaps one more time would not be bad. It was his job to ease others to his brother, was it not? Whoever it was inside seemed so weak too. It would be a favor for them both. He floated higher and higher, until he reached the entryway and- gods what kind of pitiful being lived alone in such a place?</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>How the two marble columns seemed larger than life itself, towering even the largest spires in Hades. An acropolis in the sky, who despite her white walls and bright blues that painted across the face scenes of horses crushing one another, desperately tried to welcome something, anything into her. How lucky for the Acropolis that Hypnos was here then! The first visitor is centuries he had to presume. Plates and vases unwashed, the familiar scent of rot. Even as he entered ever deeper he could see her state grow more and more apologetic. Grass had begun to peek through the crevices between tiles, and her walls. How they began to shatter like glass despite the sloppily applied white cement. Truly, they would both win in this scenario. To free a pitiful being from his weakness. To allow this city to finally crumble with the last of its people. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>If it had any in the first place. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>He had to admit to himself that despite the beauty of the island from far away, up close it gave him nausea. There was no one inside. There were dozens upon dozens of buildings, yet none seemed to harbor life. Even as he waved his hand to see if there was even a shadow of life, it remained empty. If there were any once, he’d assume it would be far before he was born. When was that? The silver age? Hypnos could not recall. He would have prayed, if he himself wasn't a god and if the only other options weren’t one man in the deepest pits of Erebus now and a woman who stood tall in the highest peaks of the surface. Besides. If either had come now then he could not- </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Simply put it would intrude upon both their aspects. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Hypnos continued forward until he reached the belly of this place. Its heart was open to the sky, and again Apollo’s bright chariot shined upon him. He was not meant for such a place. He should have returned hours ago. And yet no, he wished to continue deeper and deeper into this labyrinth. A plaque stood in the center of the room, the statues of horses, women, and men all long dead surrounding it. Heavy dust and mold covered it. With a swipe of his thumb across his tongue, and then the golden template he erased any trace of it. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>AEOLIA it read. Yes. He heard of this place once. The king should be long dead by now; the last he heard was in passing from a man who laughed alongside Achilles while shaking him and boasting about how he had truly raised such a brilliant boy. He sighed. Achilles. May he rest. Of all those involved in that little breakout, he was the one most undeserving of his punishment. Perhaps someday someone would see to it that he’s free once more. Hypnos shook his head. Aeolus, yes that was his name. He must be dead by now. This was only a squatter who is desecrating a once beautiful home. There would be no guilt. No regret.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>That pitiful squatter, laying in a bed under dozens of sheets. Its clothing a bright gold, as if mocking the city herself with that body covered in sweat, that hair a grey mess across his eyes. He could even see a grin forming on that thing's face. The scene would normally make him laugh-- a poor man sleeping like a king, who would have seen it? Now it only brought an acidic bile up his mouth that threatened to escape him. He swept his red blanket over him, and whispered nothing into his ear.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>The man seized, gasped. Still he couldn’t wake up. Even with his nails digging into the meat of his neck, he couldn’t breathe. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Good.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Even as it sunk in deeper, he couldn’t do anything but struggle against himself.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Good.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>And then. He slept once more. </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Sleep? No, he was supposed to be dead. The raking of nails against bone alone should have ensured that. No. No, no, no.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Hypnos whispered again, his voice now crackling and cursing like water.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>The man gasped again, reaching out this time. His eyes shot open. Red. They were red like dawn.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>God what was Hypnos doing? </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Tears streamed down that man’s face. Was his eyes always red? Or did they become that way when he stopped breathing? And yet, he was still asleep, no, no! How could this be happening? Had he been this out of practice? Was it the nature of dreams he was casting that is causing him to fail? </span>
      </p><p>
        <span>Hypnos took a step behind, and the man before him took another deep gasp only to- to wake up. There was relief in that...until he turned to face Hypnos. Slowly he raised his hand to touch his own neck. Hypnos could see him flinch at the soft flesh that pulsed against his fingers. With a glare he shot up from the bed. The blankets fell off as a single wing flared open. please, he begged someone to save him. That man rushed off the bed, with a burst of air behind his wing and quickly he brought Hypnos to the ground.</span>
      </p><p>
        <span>All he could hear was a gurgling, and spluttering as flesh tried to weave itself together. Normally he would welcome the smell of blood. The smell of home. But not like this. Never like this. Hypnos began to hyperventilate. No, he would not die here. No. He grabbed the face of the man so angry, so desperate to kill them both, and with a final whisper the two fell asleep.</span>
      </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Rigor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The smell of blood was gone now.</p><p>“A-Ah!” That man’s voice was surprisingly light. Especially compared to the rattling and gurgling he made not too long ago. “How- how dare you?!” His voice cracked- and god, even in his dreams his eyes were still bloodshot. Hypnos grit his teeth at the sigh, the muscles in his neck tightening as he did. Had they still been awake, no doubt would that beast have ripped out the fat arteries under.</p><p>Hypnos turned to look at one of the empty walls of the dream. “I’m sorry. I thought you were a mortal, I-” Oh gods no. What had he gotten himself into?</p><p>“That makes it better?” No. He supposed Zagreus would argue that it was worse. ‘Attacking a mortal from behind? It’s unfair, dishonorable even.’ he would whine and Thanatos, poor Thanatos would be forced to agree. “You tried to kill me and you won’t even look me in the eyes? Are you a coward?”</p><p>Hypnos swallowed. “No, no I’m not.” If that was true why was he cowering? “This is insane. You can not talk down to me.” He pushed himself to his feet, and with a single swiping pull at the hem of his skirt found himself floating again. “You should be dead. And yet you’re here still screaming like a child. Do you want to die?”</p><p>A scoff. He couldn’t tell if it was mocking or if someone had lost their mind.  </p><p>“But you couldn’t kill me.” Hypnos glared back at him. “So what do I have to be afraid of?”</p><p>Hypnos was tempted to pull at the floor, form something to take a break from all the while around them even if it would cause him more strain.</p><p>“Why aren’t you dead?” </p><p>A blink. A beat. A realization then smug smile Hypnos wanted to rip off his face.</p><p>“<em> Oh… </em> Oh, Hebe...” He knew of her, in passing. Though she spent most of her time fawning over the prince. They all did. “She won’t let me die.” The tone then turned bitter. “I wonder if she’s rushing over here now?”</p><p>“You would tattle on me to her... What are you, a child?”</p><p>“You don't remember me. Why do I bother?” His face turned red. “Tell me. How many winds are there?”</p><p>“One, four, three, same as the number of seasons why does it matter?” </p><p>His face shifted from embarrassment to exhaustion. Tired. He seemed so tired. </p><p>“Yeah… Why does it?” Hypnos watched as his arms reached back to touch the left wing. It fluttered in and out of reality. “Three is good enough.”</p><p>So that was why it was so difficult to kill him. The look of sheer… disappointment, that was familiar. If he hadn’t insulted him earlier, perhaps Hypnos would feel more pity. If the house wasn’t in such a state of disarray maybe he could forgive this scolding. </p><p>“Which one are- were you.”</p><p>“The East. Eurus.” He let go of his back. “A nobody now. Funny. Isn't it?”</p><p>Hypnos tried not to smile but such an expression was an impossibility. “No. I suppose not.” He licked his lip. Despite it all, the same nervous ticks remained. “Why would I remember you at all? She visits alone.” Or Zagreus leaves to visit her with Thanatos sometimes in tow.  </p><p>“Alone and often. I visited with her the first time.”</p><p>It clicked. That happy shade that squealed when he saw him then despite the fact that their bodies were barely human anymore and soon they’d become nothing more than a thought in Tartarus. No wonder he didn’t recognize this ‘Nobody’. A fan. Hypnos could laugh. Of all the people he hunted down it was a fan of his. To think he’d be so lucky. </p><p>“Hey, hey. It’s not my fault I didn’t remember you.” His cheeks hurt. “You’re looking pretty rough now. I mean look at you.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“You look like you’d be better off <em> dead </em>!” </p><p>His face turned to a flurry of white light as Eurus’ fist tried to connect with his cheek only to pass through like smoke. With a gasp the wind god fell, slamming against the ground. Hypnos hadn’t meant to laugh, but the tantrum he threw! Eurus groaning, grabbing his belly with one hand, the other slamming over and over again at the ground. And again. And Again. A grey puff of smoke escaped his mouth with another dry rattle and laugh after who knows how long. The floor seemed to glow, snow beginning to replace the nothingness of the ground and thousands of grey clouds overcast above them. And still Eurus continued to slam his hand on the ground, lost in whatever his mind had begun to whip up. With a bang a woman in gold appeared, in another she was gone, another and soon red-gold ichor leaked from his fist and reflected the sky. The red ripplets rose and blotted the sky, and soon it was dawn. A dawn that wailed and started to stain the world below the same pink. And still Eurus hammered at the ground.</p><p>Hypnos took a step back, surely this was not all because of a little teasing. He’d tell him to calm down, but gods, the skin was peeling and the muscles in his palm looked like stretched golden fibers that threatened to fall off the bone. It was vile. Hypnos balled his hands into fists. In a swift motion he froze Eurus in place, and banished the scene in a tearing motion. It was as if he had ripped apart parchment, paint falling the sky as it did from the iconography on the sides of the list that he spent hours on perfecting for no one. When he stretched his fingers once more, the tension left. All that remained was his shaking, the wind, and the void.</p><p>“I hate you.” Casting away nightmares remained thankless work. Besides, the sentiment was shared. </p><p>“I understand.”</p><p>“I can’t wait,” Eurus gasped, swearing as even the flesh in the dream struggled to fix itself. “I can’t wait for Hebe to arrive. And when she does, she’ll bring your brother, won’t she?”</p><p>This was true. If death was on the surface, no doubt she would try and muddy his work. Save a mortal here, reward a hero there. It was frustrating for Than. It was a treat for Hypnos when Than returned home and ranted. But this mattered little.</p><p>“Then she’ll tell him. When she does...when she does you’ll get it from Thanatos. Won’t you?” The flesh had become neat. All that was left was tan skin to stretch itself like leather across the gap. “It’s what you <em> deserve </em>.” </p><p>It then mattered a lot more.</p><p>“Why. Why would you? He wouldn’t care!” He tried to adjust the sleeping mask, pulling it down to cover his eyes. He raised a hand to cover his mouth and the fading smile beneath. If he hid his face more then surely. Surely nothing would happen. “Do you think either would care over a little misunderstanding? Come on, let’s just wake up!”</p><p>“I think they would.” Eurus almost sounded confident. “Why else are you panicking like that? Is it that he’d punish you? Would he leave?”</p><p>Hypnos couldn’t respond. The smile was gone, his frown too heavy to move now. </p><p>“Is that it? This is the god Hypnos? The one who sent Zeus and all of Hades to sleep?” Eurus laughed. “How about this. You do me a <em> favor </em>.” </p><p>The smell of blood was gone. He could hear Eurus kiss the flesh, a layer of oil soon pooling over it and cleaning the wound. </p><p>“When I sleep, you’ll come back here. You give me the dream I ask for. When I wake up, you can leave.” Hypnos would kill him if he could. “If you do this, I won’t tell Hebe.” Eurus crossed his arms. “And so, Hebe won’t tell Than. This would be our secret.”</p><p>“So you’re blackmailing me.”</p><p>“It’s a favor,” Eurus spat. “Do you really think you’d get out of attempting to murder another god? What would Hebe do? You’d be lucky to live, yourself.” He paused for a moment. “What would Thanatos think? ” </p><p>Hypnos mulled over it. There was no way out of it, was there? So be it, then. There would be ample punishment for the both of them. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"rigor" or eurus and hypnos really hate each other \(^p^)/</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Headache</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hypnos and eurus go on a dream adventure... the first real one! \(^p^)/</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The both of them. </p><p> </p><p>He pulled himself out of the dream, the smell of copper breaking into his brain, as his body reformed nerves wrapped in tissue wrapped over bone. He slunk to the ground, and deeper, ever deeper did he find himself passing by countless mortals unbeknownst to them, shades, a woman in gold again who carried the poisonous scent of honey-like nectar. The smell was overpowering, it stuck in the air of the main hall and would continue to stay until it faded beneath the blood. And how it stuck to Thanatos’ hair, and Zagreus’ own clothing because she was so touchy and needed to make sure they still were okay. He frowned, but no one took notice. Of course the use of sleep was again nothing more than a tool. To push, to punish, to trick the mind. Still, they treated it as nothing more than a game.</p><p>“Your own son, huh?” He laughed looking at the shade below. She’s been here for so long. Abandoned now, constant changes of heart throwing her across the whole of the underworld. If she could cry, she would but without a body, without tissues and nerves, without water flowing in the veins it was impossible. “Shoulda talked to him more huh? Well! Too late for that now until the furies get him. Maybe you’ll have a heart to heart once he gets here.” She shook at the mention of them, but could do nothing more besides bow her head and float off. He did arrive, long ago. Without a sun, without a moon, it was impossible for shades to know. One year, one hundred years. It made no difference.</p><p>He thinks he envied that boy for a moment. Tisiphonie’s growling of ‘murderer’ swayed him otherwise. The idea of his mom begging for his downfall, while customary, was still banished entirely. Mom. Where is she now? Arguing with Hades? Off to visit lady Persephone and aid in turning the day to night? Walking back into the House next to her true son. Her face so warm, a small itching of a grin on the sides of her mouth. It was funny how despite sleep and night being far, <b>far </b> more intrinsically linked, her greatest love seemed to be his brother, Death. Death who can be present day or night, a constant so long as there is his companion life. He didn’t need to stand by mom- <em> Mother </em> at all times. Thanatos didn’t need to eat up all her free time and leave not a scrap for himself. Hypnos would wave to her but he was sure she would sigh, tired of him already. She should not have to hold your hand Hypnos, you are plenty old enough. Do you not tire of sneaking behind her to <strike>be in her presence once more without judgement</strike> hide from work? </p><p>Did Zagreus not abandon them below to die over and over just to once again be held in Persephone's arms? Abandoned his friends, his surrogate mother Nyx, his father in all but blood Achilles. All to see Persephone. But no. Nyx was right. The only reason he bothered her so was to avoid scribbling down another 1000 natural deaths, 100 deaths in battle, 10 deaths at birth. And he would do this until the end of time.</p><p>Alone.</p><p>Even the bottles of sickeningly sweet nectar had stopped coming altogether. </p><p>He almost missed the droplets of blood that would fall off Zagreus’ body when he pulled himself from the pool and stained the floor. The teasing bits of advice he’d offer the prince when he snuck his way out and was ripped into pieces by satyrs or hydras by the dozens. And when Zagreus was home, Thanatos was by his side. Even if it was to shun him, even if it was to call him a nuisance, at least he was present. At least he had a reason to come home.  Zagreus never should’ve attempted to escape. Hebe never should’ve stormed the gates of Hades for a mission whose goal she barely succeeded. If she hadn’t, perhaps Thanatos and Zagreus would still spend more time in Tartarus.Nyx would never insist and trap Thanatos in Hades; not when he had duties to the surface and these duties would expand. The surface remained enticing to rebirth, and death followed, all because of naive youth. </p><p>And in his own naivety he ran to take his frustrations out on someone. Only for it to be an opportunistic little wretch. </p><p>No one need protect him. He was old enough. Hypnos laughed. Zeus could scare him. Hades could unnerve him. The mortals on the surface could not touch him. He was strong enough. Did Thanatos think he was the same as he was when he was barely a bundle of foam from the Lethe and a small piece of their mother’s liver. All because he had found some little thing to latch onto. A little person to pour all their love into. To take all their frustrations out of.</p><p>Now <em> he </em> was the one with an excuse to not come home. Now he had a duty on the surface. It wasn’t shafting his work, it was more of an… extra shift for a job he had neglected. The smile ripped into his cheeks and tried to push out his eyes from their sockets. The shades shuddered with a space back as they saw his bright teeth emerge from behind the blue lips. So what if it started off as blackmail? That little god needed him just as much Hypnos now needed him to keep his mouth shut. No one would need to ‘protect’ him, lock him away in Hades with fake concern. No one would use him again as a tool to be tossed aside once titans and gods alike fell asleep. He would prove that to them. He would prove that to Eurus who dared think he had an upper hand for even a moment. The chattering of teeth began, and soon he found himself unable to stop himself from laughing such a bubbly and soft sound that lulled the few wandering shades left to sleep. </p><p> </p><p>The melatonic laugh couldn’t reach farther than the eastern wing. Hands thin and bony, unable yet to recover from the years of poor harvest on the surface reached down but couldn’t grab it. Aeolia remained empty and silent, never extending its own to blanket the winter in snow, paint crocuses in the spring, bring gentle rain in summer, or usher in thousands of poppies and honey dyed wheat during autumn. He had been cast out from the surface. Cast out by them. And yet, still they tried. And to that he laughed. Petty. That is what his brothers were. He couldn’t stand the sight of them but still they did all this in some sad show of solidarity. </p><p>It was unnecessary. The waves were a little weaker, the weather a little less intense, </p><p>but still the day became night and the mortals below toiled.</p><p>Eurus took a deep breath, and blew the air out the window. It started to fade not even a meter away. Comparable to someone like darling Heb— no, not even to the likes of her. Comparable to a human. A powerless, pitiful human who struggled to swing a sickle across the field and drowned in mere moments. He kept his hands in a ball against his heart and felt it beat. What good was a heartbeat without the liver and brain to argue and lead? What good was a wing at all if he could not fly? What good was a god without any grasp of what made him a god anymore. His heart beat faster, but Eurus felt his mind drain until it was again empty. Drowning in the waters below is nothing compared to the thought of sinking into the Lethe and forgetting. Forgetting how and forgetting when the looks given to him went from companionship to pity. In that he envied the shades. At least they could sink below the river surface and become nothing. At least they could die. Die and run from what tied them to every horrid memory. Those that would play at the sound of twig breaking or the smell of burnt meat for the altar. He fell back onto his bed and sunk into the blankets until they overcast his eyes. If he hadn’t ran right behind her into the dark, if they turned back in Asphodel. If his brothers had grabbed him instead of that boy. If he could only sleep through at least one night. The cover sliced against his back.</p><p>Nothing could register anymore except pain. The pain of thousands of nerves desperately trying to push at the edge of a stump that would never, could never grow and regain the specific form needed to be a fly beneath his mother and father’s sky. To fly and form the air that could flow beneath his wings and let him soar higher, longer. But   it felt like they were still there. For a moment he could almost sense the tension of the joint as he flexed it open and closed once more. Do not touch. Do not touch it. But still his hand shook as it rose to touch the curtain of feathers and preen and as he did dozens of times before. </p><p>Bone. </p><p>He cried, but no one took notice. His wing, gods, they had stolen his wing. A demon that towered over him and like parchment ripped bone from flesh. But he was righteous then wasn’t he? Small ravenous centaurs burned the wounds and tore that last strips of white-yellow fat from pink tissue and bone with gold marrow. The smell of blood still stuck to his skin and the open wound on this back still leaked gold. But they saved him, didn’t he? His body made him want to vomit across the floor. The mirror image wasn’t familiar, not anymore. Weak. Pitiful. Forgotten. And then the mockery began and never. stopped. since. He slammed his hands against the sill. All of it was because of … because of who? The bile rose into his throat, and ultimately spewed out the window in a sputter of gold and broth. He wanted to dive deep into a dream, even if nothing mattered the moment he would be ripped out by the ring of a lyre and a shine into the window of his room. Somehow he found comfort in that it was to be the both of them. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Aeolia welcomed Hypnos again. One of her pillars had fallen over, its new pose an arm stretched out to him, insisting he enter. Even if Nyx would so politely avoid holding him, and Thanatos refused to even place a hand on his shoulder, at least this building despite her wrinkled and deteriorated face would. He considered for a moment swiping one of the vases in the main hall, but he found himself unable to disrespect the city by stealing away the only decor showing any sign of upkeep. Besides! The majority of them were uninteresting at best, and an insult at worst. His least favorite: an image of Theseus holding onto the fallen form of some woman whose name he couldn’t recall now, her hair hanging like a veil over her face. Of course such a person would idolize a shade such as Theseus. Hypnos wouldn’t dare to even spit in it. </p><p>“What is it?” The voice startled him. “I’ve at least taken care of these. Don’t tell me a vase is the thing to turn you away now.”</p><p>A disgusted sigh was the response. “Oh no. They’re <em> lovely </em> ! You <em> would </em> seem like the person to like Theseus.”</p><p>Sadly, the tone isn’t lost on him. “And what? The Minotaur is any better?”</p><p>“Isn't it monstrous to toss your only help into the sea.”</p><p>“Oh no, you’re right!” Eurus laughed. “Just as monstrous as eating poor maidens sent to die far, far away from home. Excuse me if I don’t pity the great garbage disposal of Minos.”</p><p>Hypnos bit his tongue. ‘Theseus would kill you if he heard what you said about his…’ he dared not even think the word. And so it was trapped behind his mouth. What good would it do anyway to continue this petty argument? Eurus did not need to be indulged any further. The only response he deserved was an indignant silence. Barely a minute into the visit and already he dreaded how long he’d have to spend time with this termite. </p><p>“What even is this dream you want?” Hypnos watched as Eurus disappeared down the hall. He thought he heard a small pop of a joint, a small curse beneath that. </p><p>His reply came shortly after. A simple,  “I’ll tell you in my room.” </p><p>Oh, how <em> kind </em> the wind was. He actually attempted to clean up the bedroom! The floor still shattered, the walls faded, but the glass that scattered across the floor was gone and the blood that once splattered across the covers and floor were wiped away. If you ignored the smears, mostly. Eurus slowly started to climb into bed, pulling his body over until he could finally let his shaky hands go and collapse into the middle of the bed. </p><p>“So?” Hypnos’ face turned sour as Eurus began to bury himself beneath the covers. At least most of his face was hidden away. The squirming was disgusting. Could he really not find a good position? Probably not, seeing the rings under his eyes that somehow became more purplish overnight and the way each breath was a struggle that took far too long to complete.</p><p> “I want to fly.” </p><p>Hypnos huffed. “Is that it? You have a wing, don’t you. Just fly like that!”</p><p>“Are you an idiot?” He could tell that Eurus was growling even though the blankets obscured him. Always happy to insult the person he thought was under his thumb, and yet there was no pleasure to it. Perhaps a few apologies were in order when he returned home. “Have you ever seen a bird fly with one wing? Or is all you do laze around and scribble on the margins of your paperwork.”</p><p>“Nope, but I’ve seen a fury do it. Not my fault you didn’t meet any of them during your little trip.” He clicked his tongue. “Meg could give you a few pointers.”</p><p>“From what I saw her idea of advice is a lashing.” He wondered for a moment if his appearance was her, or forbid Alecto’s doing. </p><p>At least the dream would be a quick one. The bed sunk with a creak and crackle against the wooden frame as Eurus finally stopped moving. Hypnos thought he heard a hitched breath, but there was no one else there. He leaned over the bed, moving to place a gentle hand over Eurus’ head, the shadow falling over his eyes as-</p><p>“<em> What are you doing? </em>” The bitterness was gone, and all that remained was a voice so tense that Hypnos worried it would snap. </p><p>His hand froze. “It’s… easier to send you to sleep that way. By touching your head, I mean- it’s direct.”</p><p>Eurus grit his teeth. “Then sit next to me, I don’t want you leaning over my face.”</p><p>Actually using his legs to lean over and rest onto the bed was a strange sensation. Floating was simple, comforting, wasted less energy than standing. Even when Zagreus bought him his rest, he floated over. The only cost was the bones in his legs becoming hollow. Ha, everyone floated except mortals and godlings like little Zagreus so who cared. </p><p>The bed itself was comfortable at least. No wonder humans insisted on getting one. </p><p>“Just stop being so fussy.” Hypnos shifted to the side of the bed, angling his left arm to avoid casting a shadow over Eurus’ eyes. “You’ll feel a little pinch.” He laughed at that as Eurus opened his mouth to ask what he meant. His eyes widened, then shut.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Nothing changed. </p><p>“Are you so boring that you couldn’t even come up with a foundation for me?” He found that the hollowness was gone as he kicked at the empty air around them. </p><p>Still a brilliant white, the same when he emerged from the Temple to breach the surface and covered him in white foam-like snow. </p><p>“Do you have to do that constantly?” The question seemed to spit at him.</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>Eurus sighed. “If you don’t get it, then there’s no reason for me to tell you what it is.” Turned to search the space. “You think of something. I already said what I wanted.”</p><p>Hypnos grit his teeth once more, and began to pull from the floor pillar after pillar. The walls that webbed between formed, ridges between webs for each slab. Higher it would stretch until prisms formed. He pressed the palm against the pediment above. Slowly they became clear. Dozens of carvings that told stories, paintings that depicted ferns and fruits that sprouted every fall. And Eurus. Well, Eurus remained quiet still.</p><p>He waved his hands to the sky, hoping to spur some cloud to bring cold into the dream. The snow was unpleasant, but it was grey and that was the closest to the current whiteness around them both.</p><p>A god of wind, without any understanding of anything beyond that. With children they would sleep and find themselves empty and under a pink sky with a floor that was like the sea floor and giggle as they drank gallons of sweet fig fruit from the rivers. Adults would pull themselves out from the dark to dance on top of clouds in the arms of the ones for whom they cared most, all as the night would bite into the edges of the sky more and more until they finally sunk deeper and deeper into a dream. Even elders, even those without the ability to talk and think, had the simplest dreams of a wriggling human whispering something unintelligible but comforting all the same. But Nothing? </p><p>Nobody dreams of nothing. </p><p>Hypnos collapsed. “I can’t do much without help.” </p><p>“What's different from before?” The first genuine thing he’s heard today, and it was a question that even a child would understand.</p><p>Hypnos could feel his palms burning as he balled his hands tighter and tighter. “But I'm the idiot, huh?” His throat hurt. “I can’t fashion it out of nothing. I can’t figure out a dream for a stranger based on nothing.” He tapped his own head with each point. “You expect me to build an entire world with my bare hands? ”</p><p>Eurus took a step back, his teeth biting into his fat lip. </p><p>“You don’t, right? What are you?”</p><p>“I- <b>you can’t talk to me like that</b>.” That smug voice was gone now, just a quiet little rage that bubbled beneath. “You don’t talk like that. What’s wrong with you?”</p><p>If he didn’t know those Olympians, that little blonde witch, if he didn’t know Thanatos. Then he could finally, finally-.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong with me?” The ground remained white. Like snow. Like dozens of snowflakes piled together from the overcast sky. Each individual speck that together bit into the skin of his legs. And Eurus shook. “You’re afraid of this?” Hypnos laughed. “You really are a nobody. What's wrong with you?”</p><p>The snow. The snow piled over the walls that became a dark grey, burning into their eyes against each other. It carried the beginnings of something. And soon too grey white smoke came from his nose and mouth in the void. He watched Eurus’ head jittered as he looked up towards the shifted figure behind Hypnos. A shadow seemed to crawl, and soon coat his face. Hypnos heard a gagging become retching. Was it normal to so quickly regret the thing you encouraged? Was it better that he wished to dance in the snow as the dream seemed to shake and writhe with its owner? Maybe. Maybe something was wrong with him to feel both.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Hey maybe we should…” He looked so small. “What about spring. My twin. He loves spring.”</p><p>Hypnos ignored the dread in his voice. “Spring? Funny. I love winter myself.” </p><p>Eurus shrunk back. “I don’t want- It’s not winter. I want you to.” He swallowed. “Hypnos, you can end the dream now, just no more winter.”</p><p> </p><p>Fine. </p><p>He reached down and with a pat recalled the snow. Yet it continued to snake its way up his fingertips into his lungs. Hypnos’ eyes widened, but still he continued to rub against the ground. Then tear. Still with each layer he broke, another would form in an instant.  </p><p>“Hypnos.” Eurus tried to laugh but Hypnos found himself recognizing it as his own. “C’mon. Can I wake up at least.”</p><p>It was getting worse now. The layers of white snow and paste stuck to Hypnos’ arms. With a small push, he found himself melting out of the old body and reforming anew from wisps of consciousness. Yet, Eurus seemed to stop moving entirely. The paste seemed to crawl up Hypnos’ arms were the same stretching across Eurus’ calves. If they could simply ride it out then it would be well. That’s what he told himself. It wouldn’t take long. He could leave. Hypnos found himself shifting away. He could leave now. Why wasn’t he?</p><p>Was it because that same paste had become frost that wrapped itself around Eurus’ waist? Was it that the tips of his fingers were the same dead, dull blue as his own?</p><p>He realized that the pathetic begging for help was gone. Just a slow, shuddering breathing.</p><p>Hypnos found that he couldn’t stop himself. “Hey.” He tried to stop. “It’s still a dream. You’re fixated on the snow.”</p><p>Eurus stared at him. His eyes seemed dull now. “A… A... A....”</p><p>“Listen. You said you want spring, right? Tell me about spring.” He couldn't look at him anymore.</p><p>Eurus’ mouth opened and closed slowly. He couldn’t make the noise yet, he could almost make out the words.</p><p> </p><p>Not cold.</p><p>Not cold. </p><p>Not home.</p><p> </p><p>The more he ‘spoke’ the more the frost melted. For a second Hypnos thought he saw the tips of grass blades perk through. </p><p>“What did you like about this place?” He couldn’t tell if he was helping Eurus or himself anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Warm. </p><p>Pretty.</p><p>Yellow. Lots of yellow.</p><p>“We… we came here together as children.”</p><p>Helios’ sun had finally broken through the sky.</p><p> </p><p>Yet, Hypnos found the first tremors in his hand as the snow seemed to give way for a cliff. A cliff that the sun beat down upon. </p><p>Mani.</p><p>Eurus looked up to the sky. Hypnos looked down at the field. He eased himself onto his knees and picked at the blades of grass until the long stalks and yellow bulbs reflected the light. Mani was never beautiful. The grass was always dull. The soil was poor. He and Thanatos had struggled trying to plant anything on it. When Thanatos was around anyway. But when he was, Hypnos would place a small seed in his brothers then tiny and calloused hands to plant together. In the end, Thanatos had made a call for daffodils. He couldn’t recall now why.</p><p>All he could remember was yanking each out when Thanatos had left home for good.</p><p>“The yellow flowers too.” That ugly smile was back on his face. “Hebe and I, we came back when we were a little older. I cried because all the heads were on the ground, and we couldn’t plant any ourselves.” </p><p>He reached out the same blank look in his eyes, and Hypnos found himself hoarding the few daffodils that peeked out.</p><p>“Do you feel better?” Hypnos asked. </p><p>“No.” Of course he wasn’t. “Can I plant one?” Of course he couldn’t.</p><p>The two stood there in silence. The grass swayed, yet no wind blew. </p><p>“Do you want to try and fly? The cliff seems ideal.”</p><p>Eurus looked over the edge. The single wing seemed to give a small whip. </p><p>“When we were younger, me and Hebe would jump off the cliff and race back to the top. Once I flew past it.” Hypnos continued to pluck at the grass blades. “I couldn’t stop myself. I just kept flying higher and higher because the sun was so warm.” He thought he felt a bulb, but still Hypnos plucked. “I wasn’t strong enough then, so I went back to the cliff. Hebe wanted to explore but I just wanted to lay in the sun.” The daffodils seemed to replace themselves. “Notus brought the warm air into the path as we walked. I can’t remember anything after. I don’t want to spoil it anymore by failing here.”</p><p>It was bright.</p><p>“Next week.” Eurus’ head cocked. “Same time?”</p><p>Hypnos nodded. </p><p>“I’ll leave you here then.”</p><p>Eurus turned away from him to sit at the cliff edge. </p><p>Hypnos again felt as his body dissipated then sunk into the ground. Deeper, and deeper, until again he was in reality. Deeper and deeper until the snoring stopped and he found himself again floating in the center of the hall. He looked around the hall, the only presence now being shades that lined from the desk to the pool. He placed a foot on the ground and another, then laid on the chaise.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if there are errors i do not see them</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Vértigo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eurus wants to go to work, Hypnos wants to go to bed. We have fun here.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <span>Eurus stretched his arms. Slipping out from under the red bed sheets he ebbed to and fro as he reached the doorway to the courtyard. His wing, even here, weighed too heavy and pushed him down. He opened his mouth to call out for Aeolus.</span>
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  <span>The house didn't respond.</span>
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  <span>He couldn’t recall the last time his brothers had visited. Winter? Spring? Summer? What was next? He pressed his hand against the legs of the white statues that dwarfed him even now. The sun shined off their porcelain bodies and blinded him, turning away he found that he was looking at himself on the platform. The same light stretched on stopping before the plaque that read nothing now. His arms were outstretched towards himself, and Eurus followed and held his own fingers. Gently plucking himself from the platform he pulled him down, the white face refusing to shine even as they walked towards the center. Together they held themselves and bowed. A step forward, a step back. A twirl around himself. The tapping followed, its own porcelain feet copying then leading. Eurus spun the sashes wrapped around his arms, the sheets refusing to flutter off as the statues' own billowed. He danced faster and faster, the statue itself dancing his same pace. Still they didn’t fly off. The tapping became scraping, and Eurus grit his teeth as he smashed his feet against the chips on the ground to continue the flow of the season. He shook off his fingers, orange nails now grains fluttering to the ground and dying the ground reds and oranges.  He swept his foot across the floor and brought his body down as the song crescendoed. The white marble screeched against the red porcelain shards, and Eurus screamed as still the sash clung to his body tighter despite his dancing. He flailed, the steps becoming clumsy. The statue spun faster. It’s wings spread and the white face smiled, Eurus tore at his clothes and tripped. In a wide motion, it reached for the sky. He found his hands around the sickle. </span>
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  <span>A crash and Eurus was awake once more. </span>
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  <span>He bit off another nail as he pushed off the stained orange blanket.</span>
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  <span>The statue remained in pieces against the courtyard grounds. With a sigh Eurus began to pick up the pieces and placed them within his sash. The few leaves and bits of grain crunched below his fingers and teeth. They were small gods. Eurus was smaller than even them. For a moment there was the realization that even the chthonic gods stood above him, but it was gone alongside the last shards of his face that he dropped into the red sash. They clashed inside against one another. Even as he thwacked them against the walls to shatter them further, the pieces continued to grind loudly. Even as he held his arm over the ocean they screamed. Eurus could hear their screaming even as they sunk to the depths below. </span>
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<p>
  <span>Praise.</span>
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  <span>Eurus spat at the statue’s remains. </span>
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  <span>The sun would be up soon, wouldn't it. The broom will be in Zephyrus’ villa towards the farthest edges of Aeolia. It would only be an hours walk to and back. Clean the halls. Sweep his brother's homes. Pick up the toys in Notus’ room. By then it would be late and he could move to dusting his vases and turning them so that the second scene would be present. From heroes his father would retell their stories countless times to images of lands so far off that would remain unexplored. Ha, why would he even want to? Aeolia was good enough. </span>
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  <span>And If someone was finally visiting? It would be more than good enough. He assured himself it would be good enough. If it was, perhaps then he could clean again tomorrow. And dance again the next week. And clean again the next millennium. Then he wouldn’t ever get bored. His chest felt empty but he couldn’t place the reason. Air dried the tissue of his fingers. Despite his licking they still shrunk against the bone. His hands were still sore. The right only an index and thumb. Its pinkie struggled to reform its nail, hoping to protect the matrix and bed from his biting. </span>
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  <span>Zephyrus would have held his hand and shushed him. Press a petal onto the tips and soon the pain would subside. Pour a kettle full of warm tea for the two of them, and hold him. But Zephyrus has fled again as he did countless times before. Fled into the arms of Iris who would hush his worries, cradle his head against her chest, pour her ewer over the whole of Aeolia while she gossiped, and again Zephyrus would refuse to return. </span>
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  <span>Notus could not provide comfort. Not when he was still young. When Eurus is still older and is supposed to stand over and teach him how to dance the announcement of his season. He laughed. How can he when already he’s thrown another tantrum. By the time he returned no doubt Notus would stand tall, and Eurus would remain the same. </span>
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  <span>And Boreas?</span>
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  <span>Eurus vomited at the thought of Boreas.</span>
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  <span>He couldn’t say a word to Boreas. Not a ‘come in!’ when he knocked. Not a ‘hello’ when he entered. All he could do was cower back against the walk, and force a smile even when his brother came closer with the cold air that clung to him. And when he kissed his forehead as he pretended to sleep, the icicles would rub against his skin and he held back a cry. They were so cold. The ends of the icicles burned. The grip around his wing, and the crunching of bone. The way he fell to the ground, a foot on his back and burning as the wing was given one final rip. He can feel the bone and nerve freezing across the ice, and god. The bile rose up his throat again as he could remember how the joint at his shoulder twitched, and the metacarpals while detached still flailed desperately against the ground. Eurus swallowed. </span>
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  <span>But what could he say? ‘Do not comfort me, your hands freeze my arms when you hold me, all it makes me want to do is scream because I can see Lord Hades himself.’ To drive his brother away because of something immutable. Innate. The very thing that made them gods. To drive Boreas away because of something that was doomed from the start. That was </span>
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    <span>his </span>
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  <span>fault. </span>
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  <span>They should have grabbed him.</span>
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  <span>In the end he didn’t need to drive them away. They left god knows how long ago without a word.</span>
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  <span>_</span>
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  <span> A splash at the pool brought him back. </span>
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  <span>Another old mortal. Natural causes. It was something to praise, to report back to Hades or Nyx if she cared. Surely one of them would be pleased by the development. Too long the young and old alike would fall by the fistful, still holding their aching bellies that bloated yet kept them afloat. Children crying for their mothers. Mothers desperate to find their sons. This new silence as the dead calmly made his way to the line was a welcome reprieve, one long overdue. Respectable even, if it wasn’t a simple mortal. </span>
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  <span>But why should he care for them?</span>
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  <span>Thanatos would be back soon! He was sure of that. The war on the surface was coming to a close. No more infighting over the little grain and harvest this year since </span>
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    <span>Beloved</span>
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  <span> and </span>
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    <span>Wonderful</span>
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  <span> Persephone has been returned home and those </span>
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    <span>always</span>
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  <span> open minded Olympians have reconciled with their oh so kind Lord Hades himself. It was a miracle. Thank Zagreus, Thank Hebe. Thank Thanatos and Thank Mother too! Why not? They deserved a little bit of praise for making the journey just the tiniest bit easier. Who cares that they lost some mortal souls along the way? Who cares that someone who had become central to their lives was boiled down from the little that remained into nothing more but a memory that would be locked away far below them. Locked away into the cold depths of Tartarus, alongside beasts that ate their children and others still who betrayed the gods long ago. Never to feel the warmth of the House’s few ghostly lights again. The same lights that now burned the smell of black bile and soul into the ground. Yet no one said a word. No one noticed how he could barely hold the pen for longer than a moment.</span>
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  <span>Hypnos hoped that one day they too would melt under the artificial sun.</span>
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  <span>The hall remained quiet save for the shuffling of shades that bumped against one another and struggled to reach the front of the line and beg for movement out of Asphodel. </span>
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  <span>He muttered a small “denied!” to himself as the Lord's voice became an echo. </span>
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  <span>Funny how it ended that Tartarus was an improvement against the meadows. ‘Persephone will get to fixing it soon! Be patient!’ It was a line he memorized for each of them. Their queen had arrived, with her came the end of Demeter’s frosty tears on the surface. Instead, they would cool the lava pits in Asphodel and bring it once more back to the meadows it always should’ve stayed. If they waited a little longer. If they hoped a little harder. If they begged a little louder.</span>
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  <span>If only she remained on the surface. </span>
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  <span>He grabbed his head. His hands shook, unable to contain anything that he begged to understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was the way it always was. He had to believe that. There was always ash in Asphodel. There were always pits of lava that’d dare spit at shades and beasts alike. What meadows? What flowers? What twin children that would kick up dirt and water as they played by its banks? They didn’t exist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Never existed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Such joys did not belong to the dead. Did not belong to the gods who lived below the surface. Trees did not bloom and bear fruit without the sun. Mortals did not flourish without light. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Real</span>
  </em>
  <span> light. Not the glows that came off their bodies and not the ceilings lamps and blue fires. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was the truth of Asphodel. This was the truth behind Hades. Stagnancy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zagreus runs to the surface, dies and reappears in the pool. No matter how many times he breached into that real light, that true warmth that would nourish him he would die and return here. Such indulgences were not meant for him.  Persephone laughs off the mortals crying in the lavas of Asphodel, and Nyx stands in her corner kissing her hand and laughing with her. To home and back with the seasons. Away in spring, return in winter. They had one another for half the year. Alone the other. As for the mortals, the mortals will always burn. He could feel the roots tearing from his scalp. And this was the way it will always be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could hear another splash from the pool.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shade crawled out, shuddering as it did. It struggled to look around where it was. He could already tell it was young. Far too young for a place like this. Its youthful face contorted and looked at him with such confusion. It’s bright green eyes refused to turn elsewhere and with them carried such heavy, all encompassing fear. He could see his brows tremble and the child attempted a sob, but nothing appeared. Nothing ever would. Hypnos reached out to him for a minute, his hand shaking as his fingers spread out. Forget his face, forget the last moments of life so he can accept eternity. To please please accept eternity. But there was no time. The face twisted then fell, only two glowing obols remained where its eyes once were. It slipped into the pool once more and disappeared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Always always. Asphodel will always burn-  no, Asphodel has always burned. There were no flowers there. The memory of small rolling hills was a false one, those only existed in Elysium. Ordinary beings didn’t deserve them. They didn’t deserve anything. So why did it hurt to see them reach out from pools of orange and ask if they can grow poppies together once more? Something warm flowed from his head and onto his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly they peeled away with a wet sticking noise. Hypnos found himself looking at a liquid gold that coated his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His head fell numb, and the hall still couldn’t stomach looking at him. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>or Eurus has a bad dream about home, and Hypnos can't handle how fucked up Hades (the location) and work still is. </p>
<p>in my defense i got sick twice and weird dream sequences make me happy</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Drowsiness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hypnos goes on vacation!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <audio class="audio-for-speech"></audio>
</p><p></p><div class="translate-tooltip-mtz hidden">
  <p></p>
  <div class="header">
    <p></p>
    <div class="header-controls">
      <p> </p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div><p>
  <span>Hypnos sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Normally, he’d love a week off. Instead of sleeping in the middle of the main hall, he’d get to sleep in his own room. Yet the chaise was easier to sink into and dream about a different day. A different set of circumstances where perhaps he was born last, and so he had an excuse to remain beside his mother’s breast and be held a little longer like Thanatos had. Where he is born weaker, so that she would allow him to stay at his side as otherwise he’d slip and shatter against the ground. His favorites were the ones where he wasn't born at all. But such dreams were spoiled now by dealings he couldn’t control anymore than he could before. Afraid to die. Afraid to live like this any longer. His arms rested at his side. It was the tiniest bit of control. To do nothing because he wanted to ignore his brother just as much as he wished to wring his hands around his neck. Around his waist in a hug as if he too could comfort others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t weak. No, he alone could lull grander than himself to a sleep that they refused to awake from. He remembered weaving a dream for Hera, a diversion for Zagreus, a delight for Eurus. Who else held such a dominion that for a moment, such a brief moment was real. And still, he remained a runt. Thanatos took with the blood of their mothers liver when he was born, Hypnos the tissue. Thanatos has a blush to his cheeks that burned more with every conversation with Zagreus. Hypnos, as tall as he was and as versatile as he could be, would always remain a drained grey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He realized the bed was hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pillows prodded at the wounds he marked into his skin, their quills desperate for attention. He plucked one. The barbs fell away and the few that remained, stunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He peeled back the cover. Pressing a hand, the mattress sunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The same as always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet it was still hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shame, really. There was no excuse to beg for a replacement. Even if he asked for one, Nyx’s would be nothing more than a quiet ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>tsk</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ and that noise would remain with him for the next year. The thought to cast a spell of sleep upon himself came to mind for a moment. It was attempted the next. It failed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shame that he perhaps was not as strong as he was before. That he couldn’t sleep at any hour as he did once before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Day became night. Night to day. The lights did not change. The room seemed to distort more with each hour. His eyes swelled begging to shut. Still he couldn’t sleep. Closing his eyes once showed him Zagreus and Thanatos in tears kissing and holding one another as they sipped at the sweetest nectar. Closing them twice brought the image of a twirling night that became his mother who reached to touch his head only to be interrupted by the soft sound of a gong and her running off in a desperate search. The third bore the image of snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grew more tired with each day. He tried to leave his room the third, long fingers coiling around the door frame as he peeked. A young shade marked off the passing dead with a pleasant smile and hum. The smaller wreath peeked out his silver hair like small horns and his brilliant green eyes met with each little mortal that waved back. His nails dug into the wood. A familiar voice praised his efficiency. Hypnos glared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It replied a bored thank you, and shooed him off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His teeth began to grind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a breath, two, four, eight, he forced himself back to his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thanatos had warned him before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, he was too late. Would it matter if he was told now anything about what he had done the day they celebrated Zagreus’ return? What tied him to the house if he no longer had a place in the main hall? Was there any miracle in seeing the shade twirl his hair as it freely talked to the shades while still etching their names and places with such ease? None for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day after he peeked again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was smiling and trying to calm down one of the rowdier shades. He couldn’t see their faces now, no sleep wouldn’t allow it without an intense blur, but he could at least recognize the flex of the shoulders and the tightening of the muscles. Up and down fell the coin in the villain's hand, flipping over and over without anyone caring about the result. That type of shade was the worst. It was so easy to fall into their jabs, to stop and fight in the hall for hours on end with only a larger than life line to show for it. And yet. Here was that same shade, laughing and nodding while still marking down on one hand while shooing away other shades along the line with the other. Of course. Anyone could replace him. But like that? How can someone like that exist?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then came the fifth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was still there. It was sitting on his chaise, its bright blue clothing drawing everyone’s eyes to him and his soft voice soothing even the angriest of shades. Hypnos tugged at his own skirt and held his tongue. It laughed at a joke Zagreus gave and still scribbled down his name and the word ‘allergies’ beside it at the same time. The reply, he couldn’t hear, but he could see the prince stop and grab his stomach as he laughed. Hypnos pulled away. Had Zagreus visited since he demanded that Hypnos took a break? No. No he didn’t think so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization hit. He closed his eyes and frowned. Zagreus was kind because it is his nature. But they weren’t friends. No, Zagreus had better things to do. He had Thanatos. He had the shades, sinful and pure alike pooling at his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house did nothing but give him a heavy feeling that never seemed to leave his throat. Peeling away the curtains gave way to nothing but more darkness that shunned him behind the glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t belong here. No. He may have never belonged. Hypnos fell back on his bed, and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered if the others carried color or paint or a speckling of sorts to break up the image. Or if he could see the surface sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dynamicism. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is what Hades lacked. That is what he wished for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is why he slept so often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helios was dragged across the sky, Eos chased him, and Selene right behind. A lightshow every night. The warm touch of family who played that game of tag every hour of every day. The idea of Nyx coming up to watch Selene and Astraeus came to mind for a moment, then passed. She would visit them more than him? His hands clutched his chest and the thought crushed his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he could reach his hand out, touch the edges of such a familiar place he would. That place that only existed in dreams and in true death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only Gods could experience the latter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To dance among the flowers on the surface would be enough, maybe. Would it be preferable to stretch under the summer sun? Alas summer brought rain and with rain came storms. He sighed. Zeus no doubt is still keen on throttling him for his mischief when he was barely an adolescent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps he didn’t belong on the surface either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The surface, the underworld. If he didn’t deserve to either, perhaps he would carve out his own place in the world. Somewhere far beyond the reaches of his mother and the Olympians alike. Somewhere where the weather and tides obfuscated travel. No, they couldn't send any doomed mortals on a quest to retrieve him as they would crash on the rocks long before they even got close. Family would no doubt become lost and leave empty handed. His mind drifted to the ruins and the east wind before he shook his head and smiled. The Aegean housed countless little islands did they not? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That island’s energy was only its own. The sun touched the hills, heated the stone, and yet he couldn’t sense Helios’ eyes looking down on him. The waves crashed against her shore, and yet it didn’t carry Poseidon’s laugh. Other gods minus … that little one didn’t seem to want a thing to do with it. Minus a feather or two, it was as if Aeolia had been ripped away from the reaches of most mortals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t go to Aeolia. Not when it wasn’t necessary. But the countless islands that decorated the sea would serve as a suitable refuge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hypnos took one last peek at the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There he still was.  The hall was near empty, the swinging of one or two shades interrupting the image of blue curtains against light blue petals. Hypnos looked back and that man laughed, his voice scratchy but deep. A butterfly flew through the hall and landed on his fingertips. He lightly pushed back its silver antennae, and it gave him a little push as its laugh echoed and soon left the way it came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so Hypnos headed off in a puff of grey smoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He came to the sound of crashing waves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind brushed his hair behind his ear. The entryway to the main hall’s ruins stood tall behind him. He turned to enter, then stopped with a slap against his head. Ugh. He didn’t want to imagine the East’s reaction to seeing him arrive. A whole two days early, too. No doubt he’d fill the time insulting one another. As fun as it would be to tease him relentlessly, it was too tiring already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He licked his thumb and stuck it out to the air. The wind blew from the south. A deep breath, a leap, and he headed towards the North. If it was summer, then no doubt whichever brother that lived would be hopping around and drawing attention if their paths cross. With a hop, he crossed the seas, with another he launched far beyond Chios and Lesbos. The air buffeted his skirt and pushed him back, still he persisted. The small gusts of air from Ethiopia grew fainter and fainter, each hop needing more strength. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were two rules that he understood. One, it was unwise to teleport to a location that was unknown to you. No doubt that most of Thanatos’ more tragic escapades were tied to this fact. The second was that continued use would no doubt kill you. Though whether he would return to the Styx like Zagreus or simply cease to be was a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His foot touched the soft grass of Lemnos and he sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But nevermind that. He came to forget such things. The grass curled inward and tickled at the sole of his feet as he walked. It was plushlike. A far cry from the smooth tile of the house and the dust and cracks that decorated Aeolia. He let himself frown, and with that the muscles in his face finally loosened. The sigh was loud, the yawn louder, and the tension melted with both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour's walk brought him to a larger break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered for a moment what exactly it was about these islands that attracted such strange beasts that gathered around the grove. Countless horses, all grand and robust. A purplish one spotted him and huffed. Another two ponies, lilac in color hopped alongside each other at the sight of him. Had humans visited before? He doubted it. Not when the smaller of the two trotted up the hill he stood on and sniffed at him. Still, the frown stayed. “Hello there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It chittered at his voice. The lilac beaut did a leap and bound in circles around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The excitement, the sheer joy took him back. It threatened to trip him against the grassy floor as the foal excitedly tried to get him to play. Still, Hypnos wouldn’t dare dirty him with even the smallest stroke against its mane. Still the horse giggled and bleeped around him, rubbing its head against his side. He sighed. It was so small. So young. It shouldn’t learn to trust humans. Still the more it begged for attention to the more he broke until he found himself scratching behind its ears and telling it that it was a very sweet child. Even if it didn’t understand what he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave them a wave goodbye. One of the small ponies seemed to shake its head as he did. It was a promise to come back. He hoped so, at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun set. Hypnos stared at Nyx’ sky, he reached a hand out and sighed as he pulled it back. Did she look for him? Did Thanatos? They hadn’t peeked in his room before, how long until they did notice that he left? Likely never. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite there being no bed frame nor mattress he found himself at ease. Funny how the small purplish flowers lulled him to sleep despite digging into his spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind drifted to the islands that surrounded him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The one, a single hop before was nothing but chattering from men, their wives, their children. How they would dance together under the sun and promise to pick up a bouquet of primrose before they came home. Another the sound of singing and joy between women, then giggling as the poems teased one another and set their hearts a flurry. Then, back to the first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aeolia was strange, when given more thought. It was grand once, but was now reclaimed by Gaia more and more with each day. It was empty, but welcomed strangers with open arms. Admittedly, the grass alone seemed welcoming. It’s blades wiggling with the weak wind and wilting under the softest blow. No, it wasn’t that he longed for it. It was that it had become familiar. Of course he came rarely to whisper a dream into the only mortal that lived there, where he was now he couldn’t say. Then he stopped. And now, centuries later he returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was curious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the sun rose. He’d feed that curiosity. Just a small bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods of the surface didn’t float often, there was a reason for it. Unlike Hades, their grounds were plush. Soft. He ticked. Sometimes wet as the weather here was dynamic. But still, if he was here, if he was to play their games, he should do something small to start. And so he placed his feet on the ground, taking clumsy steps as he started until he found his pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking. Hypnos could laugh. He was walking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He placed a hand out and felt the palm brush against the bushes as he headed for the faintest bits of the villas on the horizon. The bark’s grooves met and filled its twins in his hand and tickled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The surface was dynamic. Alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their grounds curved, sunk, then cracked. Their walls spun and reached high above him while covered in its dozens of patterns. Even the clouds seemed to move at its own paces. A slow cloud, it’s long wispy brothers that overshadowed it, another shaped vaguely like a fish. A laugh. If he was allowed, if he was willing, perhaps he could stay longer than the one week he was permitted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, he found Eurus at the cliff again. Still the night was almost as brilliant as the day, and for a moment he wondered if they stood together would anyone notice the difference. Hypnos sat next to Eurus. To look below is to look at the dark water that shivered and ebbed deeper and deeper. Had Poseidon noticed the two of them? He doubted it. To look above is to see the night sky stretch on endlessly. Had Nyx realized he was gone? He hoped so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re here early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clicked his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should be sleeping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eurus shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d point out the bags under his eyes, but an argument so late wouldn’t change the fact that Eurus wanted to stay up, and Hypnos? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was losing his mind. If he talked to another beast, no doubt he’d start hearing them reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They just watched the sky etch ever farther. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you ever wonder how your brothers are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered if Thanatos bothered to stay in the towns he visited a little longer for him. He wondered if Charon had sailed a little farther hoping for a glimpse that he was still around. Yet, the truth? Why would they need to. Mortals slept without him. Death came to the entryway of every city every day. No one else could lead them to eternity. And Thanatos wasn’t one to let his work fall away from him for something so pointless. Any others could log the time of death, manner, eventual placement. Any other could, and without distraction to sleep or draw pointlessly on the margins.</span>
  <em>
    <span> If you tore yourself apart from the dynamic, perhaps then- Only then would your brothers rise to even greater heights</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They needn’t have to worry</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe they’re doing just fine.” He waved the thought away. “Do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eurus’ smile shook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Phosphorus is happy. I can see him shine a bit brighter today. I think I should at least be happy for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The stars are family too? Funny.” He remembered very little from his mother’s teachings when he was little. The stars were the children of the dawn and the other celestial bodies. A lineage born from anathematized Eos and her estranged Astraeus. In the end, even if it wouldn’t compare to Nyx, Eos tried. Even if all her children ended far, far below her reach. Funny how despite Nyx’s efforts, he knew only of three seasons, three incarnations of the sky, and three siblings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The others?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hypnos rested his head on his knees. The sky was the same color of his mother’s hair. The same dark blue-black. It dwarfed him as she normally would. Holding his hand out wouldn’t change the fact that the dark would coat his fingers, blanket his body in shadow, and render his body black. She was always grand. Powerful. Capable. He cried countless times in his room; he realized he had never seen his mother she’d a tear once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think they'd be disappointed in me if they saw me now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who could tell where the voice came from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps Eurus was a bad omen. He certainly gave Hypnos a horrid feeling of dread that forced his chest to hollow and weigh heavy all at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would explain most of his discomfort anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think that,” a soft sigh. A quiet moment. “That the care someone has for you could travel across entire planes. That no matter how far they are, it reaches you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That dread only seemed to grow larger and ball up in his throat. “I hope not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eurus still looked up at the dots that scarred his mother’s sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still. The stars were his own family too, in a way. They shared the sky for a reason. The lesson for what exactly the reason was, was lost on him now. If night was meant to help lull mortals to sleep, would dozens of lights not beckon them to stay up longer? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you feel like someone cares for you now?” Hypnos adjusted his head once more. His knees no matter what the position dug into his skull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think my mother does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think or you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eurus tore his eyes away from the countless family members that danced across the sky, unaware. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t hear her. I don’t truly ever see her face. But even then, doesn’t being alive now mean she loves me even a little bit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forced himself to look at Eurus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If she can’t even look at you, if she won’t hold you, what good is it if she loves you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes seemed to water. Hypnos’ own seemed to begin to burn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>cruel</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She gave us life. Isn’t that enough?” His voice seemed to rise. “Can’t you at least be happy with the thought that someone cares about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so desperate to believe someone who doesn’t acknowledge that you exist, does?” His own volume overpowered the winds. “How can you believe in her when she only shows you over and over that </span>
  <b>she doesn’t care</b>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as soon they screamed it fell silent. If he wasn’t miserable he’d laugh. Of course the minute he sees someone else he needs to cause an argument. It was in his nature to spoil whatever came close to him. A gift from his mother, or perhaps his sisters who wouldn’t allow him any other birthright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two shaky hands cupped Hypnos’ face. The sensation of skin on skin pricked his cheeks, burning as if hundreds of needles and with them came ideas of nothingness. It wiped at the tears starting to form, still they came one by one. Eurus’ contorted face refused to fade from view. With his eyes scrunched, he began to sob. Choking with each little breath, he sobbed. Hypnos could feel his own tears begin to flow freely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t we just believe for a minute that someone cares. At least our mothers.” He heard a gasp and gurgle. “At least them. Don’t you want that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still he pushed through his own crying, and smiled. “What good is it to believe in something that’s not real…  why would you want to keep hurting yourself like that?” The smile wobbled and crashed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like children, they balled their hands and sobbed loudly as their fingers rubbed against their eyes. Crying over the centuries left alone. The siblings that once held their hands and led them away to play in secret who now were nothing more than strangers. For childhoods spent quietly waiting for mother to hold out her own hands and hug them tightly. To be hugged and allowed to cry in her arms. Being held against another's breast and allowed to sob as adults couldn’t compare. Hypnos could only gargle the curses he wanted to scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In another life, if he was just a little stronger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little taller.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little older.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe then, he could be deserving of at least his mother’s attention. If he couldn’t be loved, then at least then he could be held.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel Eurus’ arms hold him tighter as he too sobbed. Hypnos screamed a final cry. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When the sun rose, the pricked feeling in his cheeks remained but Hypnos was alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Goal for the next chapter: take less time, be actually happy</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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